


Only Good Boys

by supersoakerx



Category: Paterson (2016)
Genre: D/s themes, F/M, Mommy Kink, Nipple Play, Praise Kink, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26438512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersoakerx/pseuds/supersoakerx
Summary: Pat wants to call you Mommy. Like a lot, like really very badly.
Relationships: Paterson (Paterson)/Reader, Paterson (Paterson)/You, Paterson x You, paterson x reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	Only Good Boys

He'd whispered to you in the night, all of the racy, saucy details.

You'd stroked his cock gently, evenly, the slow drag of your fist aided by his favourite velvety-smooth jasmine-scented lube.

He'd trembled and sighed and looked up at you with the biggest, sweetest, chocolate brown eyes, sinking his top teeth into his bitten-red bottom lip right before he confessed something even more salacious.

And on his lips, as he talked himself through his fantasies to a big sticky mess of an orgasm, was the word he'd yearned to moan for you for _so long_.

One gasping breath, another, his stomach tensing, and then—a strangled groan.

"Mommy."

**XXXX**

Your heart thumps in your chest as you stand in front of the bedroom door, the steps of the agreed plan running through your head, making your cunt quiver and slicken in sheer anticipation.

You count your breaths, easing your excited nerves and listening for out for him, on the other side.

After a few moments of heavy, thudding silence… you hear a moan.

It drags out into a whimper.

Then, after a pause, comes a deeper, guttural groan.

You slam open the door.

"What in the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?"

Long, naked Paterson lays languidly on the bed, one hand tweaking a stiff, rosey-pink nipple and the other wrapped around his hard, leaking dick.

"Hmmgh," his hips rut into his fist at the sight of you, at your words. "I, I-mmh," he stutters.

"Fucking _stop_ it, Paterson. You're a grown man, not a child."

He gasps so hard it sounds like a hiccup. "B-but it, f-feels so good, mmmI couldn't s-stop."

"Did Mommy tell you you could play with yourself like this?"

"Fuck," he hisses, then catches himself. Louder he answers you, "nno Mommy, you didn't."

"Then you're in trouble, aren't you, Paterson?"

Shaky breaths. Then, "yes, Mommy."

"And tell me why?"

"For being b-bad."

You tut. "For being a naughty, dirty boy," you correct him, and his hips jolt again. "You know better than this. Get your filthy hand off it."

"S-sorry, Mommy," Paterson pouts.

He’s so pretty, so handsome.

"Oh," you scoff, dragging the chair off the wall, "it's too late for 'sorry, Mommy' and you know it. Get over here, get over my knee, filthy thing."

You sit on the chair and Paterson scrambles over to you, arranging himself on your lap like you'd practiced. He arches his body over your thighs, making a triangle out of himself and bracing his weight on his hands and feet, his stiff dick hanging between your slightly spread legs.

But the real star is his smooth, fawn-pale backside, his ass perched and raised and stuck out for you like the present it truly is.

You glide your palm over one of his cheeks, and a small keening whimper hums in Pat's throat.

"Mommy’s gonna spank your ass _pink_ , Paterson: do you understand?"

"Yes, Mommy," he gulps.

"Ten should do it, if you're a good boy and your little cheeks flush all rosey and red for me."

"Yyess, Mommy."

"Count 'em, baby," you say, and bring your palm down in a firm smack on Pat's ass.

He jolts in your lap, gasps out, “one.”

You smooth your palm over his skin, then land another firm slap on his other cheek.

“Twoo,” he moans, his filled-out cock already starting to pulse with need.

“Harder now, ok, Paterson? You can take it, baby.”

“Mmhm. Yes, Mommy.”

You smack him again, in the same spot and sharper this time.

“Three! Mmommy.”

“Three: good, baby,” you coo, and slap a quick firm palm to his other cheek.

“Ffour—,”

Another smack, quicker.

“Five! Fuck,” he clenches his cheeks together. “That’s five, Mommy.”

You hum, smoothing your palms over the blooming blushing pink of his ass. “You’re doing so well, babyboy. We’re halfway done, and your ass is already looking _so_ pretty for Mommy.”

Paterson whimpers, his throat warbling, his heart beaming with pride. “Th-thank you, Mommy.”

“Five more, ok?”

“Mmm-Mommy.”

You land another loud spank to his ass.

“Six! Six, Mommy.” Pat’s voice is straining.

You smack his other cheek.

“ _Seven_ ,” he gasps, trying to rut against your thigh and get any kind of friction on his cock.

“Be good, baby, Mommy’s already cross with you,” you remind him, and bring the firm flat of your hand down again.

Pat bucks in your lap. “Eighht-ohh, God. S-sorry, Mommy—,”

“Shh, two more,” you say, and the smack of flesh-to-flesh rings out in the room.

“Oh, Mommy, niine.”

“Last one, baby.”

Another hard smack.

“Ten,” it comes out garbled, choked on. “Th-that’s ten, Mommy,” his voice sounds thick.

You smooth your palm in soothing circles over Pat’s pinkish-red, heated skin—and he sniffles.

“Pat?” you ask, concerned, “baby?”

“Yes, Mommy?”

He’s still in the role. “If you wanna keep going, Pat, come kneel, baby, come here,” you coo, “or, tell me ‘red’.”

Pat slinks off your lap and manoeuvres himself kneeling between your legs—and the sight that greets you is not what you were expecting.

Paterson’s cheeks and nose are flushed pink, down his neck and chest too. His eyes glisten, red-rimmed with unshed tears.

But it’s his cock—his long, thick, subtly-veined cock, all ruddy-rose purple against the creamy, pale fawn of his thighs—and the weeping beads of pearlescent cum at the tip of it, that truly surprise you.

You hum. “There’s Mommy’s babyboy, hm?” Pat blinks downwards, smiling a small, modest smile at the ground. “Yeah, you’re my good boy, aren’t you, Paterson?”

“Yes, Mommy,” he breathes, looking back up at you bashfully.

“Did you like that so much you teared up, baby?”

“Godyes,” he whispers.

“Mommy made your cock drool, didn’t she?”

He nods, pouting so prettily with his plush pink lips. “Yes, Mommy.”

“Mmm,” you lean in, run your thumb along his bottom lip, “you look so pretty when you’re gonna cry for me.”

“Mmommy, oh, God,” Paterson mutters.

“What is it, Paterson?” You sit back in the chair, squeezing your thighs together. The pulsing throb in your centre had grown more and more insistent as you bent your husband over your knee.

Paterson swallows. “You made my—made me so hhard.”

“I did what? Try again, baby.”

Pat sucks in a breath through his teeth. “You made my cock so hard.”

"Hm,” you huff, “such a swollen, needy thing it is—,”

Pat whimpers at that.

“—but who did that to you?"

Paterson glances up, meeting your eyes and looking so deeply into them, the most gorgeous, desperate plea written all over his face. He says, “you did, Mommy—made me so hard I’m leaking everywhere, ‘m making a mess.”

“Hmm, it is a _big_ mess, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

That God damned pout, almost like he _knows_ it’s making your insides melt.

“Well, I suppose…” you hum, feigning deep thought and consideration. “You did take your spanking _very_ well, baby. Turn around, show Mommy that ass again.”

Paterson’s eyes light up, he wastes no time in leaning up on the edge of the bed, sticking his ass out and presenting to you.

“Mmm,” you hum, eyeing the ruby-rose flesh, “yeah, you did do very well for such a naughty boy.”

“Mm, thank you, Mommy.”

You stand and lean over him, nuzzling your nose to his ear and whispering, “you want Mommy to make it better, baby?”

His breath catches. “Yes, Mommy. Please, Mommy.”

“So well-mannered,” you purr into his ear, “what do you want, Paterson?” You rake your nails up his broad back.

“ _God_ ,” he gasps like he was holding his breath, “w-want to suck, Mommy.” You suck his earlobe into your mouth and he groans, “pleeaase.”

You husk into his ear again, smoothing over his ass with your palm. “You know only good boys get to suck Mommy’s tits.”

Paterson gulps in air, “I’ll be good,” so eager to tell you, to make sure you know, “I’ll be good, Mommy.”

You hum, squeezing his cheek, and murmur, “sit up on the bed, babyboy.”

Paterson clambers up, rushing to get into position. He sits on the bed with his back against the headboard, his legs laid out flat in front of him. His stiff, swollen cock rests on his belly, and he fists the sheets, forcing himself to be patient.

You undress completely, and when you take off your bra Paterson’s breath hitches in his throat. “Mommy,” he whines, his eyes locked on your breasts.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here,” you say, climbing up on top of him. You sit in his lap, careful not to accidentally touch his cock—not yet, anyway. That’s not what this is.

You smooth your hands over your breasts seductively, making your nipples pebble up tight.

Paterson’s mouth hangs open. Your tits are right in his face and he’s almost drooling.

“Now, let me make sure, baby,” you say, grazing your fingertips over your nipples. “This is what you want? This is what’s gonna make it better?”

“Hnnmh, yess Mommy,” Paterson groans, “I wanna suck your tits, wanna be a good boy and suck my Mommy’s tits.”

It fires you up, the both of you crackling with electricity under the veneer of the game. You slide your palms underneath your breasts and cradle them, holding them up for him. “Make Mommy proud, baby.”

Paterson keeps his eyes locked with yours until his lips close around your nipple. His lids flutter closed gracefully, and he moans when he latches onto your stiff peak, his tongue pulsing against the underside of it with every suck and swallow of his own spit.

A ragged groan claws its way through your throat, and pleasure sparks in all your stiff, nerve-filled buds.

“Mmmphh,” Paterson moans, his hands flying up to cradle the soft swell of your tit, his palms so warm and gentle as they wrap around your flesh.

“Yeahh,” you moan, “suck it, baby.”

A guttural groan rattles Paterson’s vocal cords. He lets himself be eager, and suck harder, and make sloppy noises of suction with his lips and tongue. Like an infant.

You throw your head back and groan, the tingling in your core now buzzing with need. You’re soaking yourself for him, for _this_.

Paterson releases your nipple with a satisfying shuck. Spit coats his lips, and he whimpers, “Mommy,” before diving for your other breast, clasping and holding and sucking it, taking your whole areola into his mouth.

“Mmfuck, _yes_ , baby. Oh, you’re doing so good for Mommy, so _so good_ , Paterson.”

He grunts onto your tit through wet, noisy sucks, and his dick twitches where it rests on the soft rolls of his belly.

“’s your cock ready for Mommy?” you ask through gasps.

“ _Hmmmnnh_ ,” Pat groans, nodding with your stiff nipple between his puckered lips.

You spit a healthy glob of saliva onto your hand and wrap it around Pat’s dick. It’s so hot and firm to the touch, every fibre of muscle stiff and prominent, the thick length marked here and there by thin, elegant but protruding veins. He must be absolutely aching by now, poor baby.

You make a loose fist, and pump Pat’s cock slowly but steadily in your warm, soft, wet palm.

“Hhhnnmmmghh,” cries Pat, his mouth full of your tit. Little grunts of, “mm-mm-mm” accompany the rhythmic pulsing suck of his lips and tongue.

“So f-fucking, noisy, baby,” you croon, “you like this, Paterson? F-feel good, baby?”

“Hmmhmm,” he groans, his hips rocking into your palm under your weight, jostling your body where you sit straddling him.

"Yeahh, babyboy, who takes care of you?" you coo, making slow, teasing passes of your fist on his dick.

Paterson pulls off your breast with another sloppy pop. "Mmhhhyou, you do, Mommy."

“Yes, I do,” you groan.

“Please more,” he blurts, and you lock glassy eyes with him. “Please, Mommy.” His hands squeeze and massage the flesh of your breasts. “Please.”

Your clit throbs for attention, your cunt sloppy and ready for him. “You know Mommy likes a nice, big cock to fuck. Do you have one of those for me, babyboy?”

He pushes up into your palm. “ _Please_ , Mommy— _yes_ , take it, take me, fuck me.”

He's worse than needy. He's _desperate_.

“Hmm… your cock does _feel_ pretty big, Paterson—,”

A whimper dies in his throat.

“But I won’t know for sure until…” you shift and lift up, guiding his cock to your entrance and then you slowly, glacially, sink ever gradually lower.

“Oh, baby,” you moan as your cunt engulfs his length torturously slowly.

Pat’s almost vibrating with flickering, fiery nerves. His mouth drops open and falls lower, and lower, the muscles in his pecs and abs and hands twitching.

And his big beautiful brown eyes? They well up all red and shiny with hot, wet tears.

Eventually you sit all the way down on him with a contented, “ahh,” sheathing wholly and completely his throbbing cock inside your tight, wet pussy.

Paterson’s gasping, clinging to air, to his own sanity.

“Oh, baby, look at you,” you purr, leaning in, “was that good? Did Mommy make you wanna cry, it felt so good?”

“Mommy,” he all but sobs, “yyour p _uhh_ - _pussy_ … sohh, little.”

It’s taking everything in him not to move, not to cry for you.

“I’m so proud of you, Paterson.”

His heart quakes and blooms in his chest. “Mommy?” he asks, and his voice sounds worn out.

“Yeah, baby?” you card your fingers through his hair, brushing it back off his face.

Paterson’s lids flutter. “Please, please move, Mommy. Please, fuck me. I can’t…” he trails off, pinching his eyes shut.

“Mmm,” you hum, starting to gently, slowly, rock and grind your pelvis against his. “It’s ok, babyboy. Mommy’s gonna fuck you,” you snake your hand around the back of his neck, “until she wrings every drop of cum from your big fat cock.”

Paterson groans loudly, it echoes around the room, full of utter relief and pure pleasure. He tips his head back in a daze, but your palm is there to catch him.

You guide his face to your breast. “You want Mommy’s tits again, babyboy?” You roll your hips, sliding your cunt along his cock and finding that angle where your clit grinds against his pubis.

Paterson licks his top and bottom lips, “wwant, wanna, mmsuck,” his mouth forms a little ‘o’, in a way you don’t even think he’s aware of. “Gimme, titties, Mommmffmm,” he grunts and groans as he latches his lips to your nipple, ecstatic to feel the stiff bud on his slippery tongue again.

He breathes hard through his nose, sucking and slurping your nipple as you work your pussy on his achingly stiff dick.

“Ohh, God,” you groan, lifting up and grinding down, getting that mix of friction inside and out that quakes your thighs. “Hmmh baby, suck me, suck Mommy’s titties, Paterson,” you pant.

He groans, switching nipples with another satisfied grunt of pleasure.

It rips a moan from your throat, and you tip your head and arch your back, pushing your breasts into his face.

He cradles your flesh, one breast in each big, warm hand as sucks, the wet smacking suction of his mouth driving straight through your core.

“There’s a good boy, mmmff, such a good boy for Mommy, Paterson.” It’s building, flooding warmth pooling deep in your gut.

Suddenly, Paterson tears his mouth away from your breast with a ragged, raspy cry. “ _OhhGod_ ,” he gasps, “Mmommy, please, I’m gonna, hhI’m gonna—,”

“Shh, shh, baby,” you soothe him, slowing your hips and snaking a hand down your body, “it’s ok, we’ll do it together, ok?”

He whimpers, “oh God, oh God.”

“Shh,” you coo, and then gasp when your fingertips nudge your big, stiff clit. “See that, feel that, baby?” you say, rubbing your clit in the way that makes your pussy clench on him.

“ _HhmmMommy_ ,” Paterson’s groan is guttural, tortured.

“That means Mommy’s gonna cum soon,” you say through panting breaths, using Pat’s cock and mouth as toys, at this point. “You know that, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Mommy, yes Mommy, _hmmyGod_.”

“Why don’t you be a g-good helper and suck Mommy’s tits s-some more until she cums?”

“Shit, shit,” Paterson pants, slurping and slobbering all over your other nipple, “please cum, Mommy, please, my—b-baby’s cock aches for it.”

“Fuck!” you shriek, your orgasm crashing down on you in sudden roiling licks of flame-hot bliss.

Paterson wails incoherently, pushing up into your clenching, seizing, cumming pussy once, twice, before he explodes with an elated sob.

You both shake and tremble, shatter and tremor as powerful orgasms overtake you. You clutch each other close, bundles of hot, sweaty, electrified, liquified nerves.

Soon your spasms of ecstasy cease, but against you Pat’s chest heaves with quick, silent sobs.

You wrap your arms around him tighter. “Pat? Baby? It’s ok.”

He clings to you, clutching you close and hiding his weeping eyes in the crook of your neck.

“It’s ok, Pat. You’re ok. It’s just me and you, now, baby. It’s ok.”

Slowly, his shudders ease off. “Oh, my God,” he sniffles, relaxing his hold enough to look you in the eyes.

“That was a lot, huh?” you smile.

“Yeah—oh, my God—yeah.” He breaks out in a chuckle.

It makes the both of you bounce and groan in discomfort, his softening, hypersensitive cock jolting inside your super slick walls.

“Clean up?” you ask.

“Clean up,” Pat nods.

You press a kiss to the tip of his nose and ease off him with a grunt. “I’ll go get that lotion, for your—the one you like with the oats and honey—,”

“Peaches,” he grabs your arm, stopping you before you slide off the bed.

“Yeah, Pat?” you turn back to him, his face all sheepish and coy.

“Honey,” he pauses, swallowing. “You’re so good to me.”


End file.
